


Death of A Knight; Birth of A Tactician

by KarmaticWyvern



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Gen, Glenn Fraldarius Lives, Glenn Fraldarius is Robin, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Robin is Glenn Fraldarius, The Tragedy of Duscar, YES beta we LIVE like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23757118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarmaticWyvern/pseuds/KarmaticWyvern
Summary: The Tragedy of Duscar marked the end of Glenn Athena Fraldarius and the beginning of Robin the Tactician.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	1. The Tragedy of Duscar(1): A Knight's Watch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kurakynr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurakynr/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Origin of a Vessel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085019) by [Kurakynr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurakynr/pseuds/Kurakynr). 
  * Inspired by [The Tactician of the Azure Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22143604) by [UnknownHorizom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownHorizom/pseuds/UnknownHorizom). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1: The Tragedy of Duscar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't spawn the bunny.  
> I adopted the bunny.  
> I wrote the bunny.  
> Let us see how long I can keep the bunny alive.
> 
> Kura beta'd this so any and all the errors are her fault for not doing her job right.

**Fodlan, Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, Duscar.**

**1176.**

* * *

_Tomorrow is going to be miserable._

Glenn was beyond exhausted as he made his way through the sea of tents on patrol. He should have been asleep in his tent, not out patrolling on the bloody second shift of night watch. It was two in the fucking morning. Glenn wasn’t even supposed to be on the guard rotation tonight. Knights were only supposed to be assigned one guard shift a day and he’d been on morning watch already today. He’s been awake since three in the morning and operating on only five hours of sleep.

_I swear to Sothis, I’m going to kill Gaspard the next time I see him._

An mild exaggeration perhaps, Glenn was simply going to make a point to challenge and beat the Gaspard heir in a duel the next time he saw him. Leave him with a few nasty bruises as payback for this. Was it petty? Assuredly. Father would certainly disapprove if he followed through on his petty fantasy, but he could reconsider his grudge later when he was rested and in a clearer head space. For now Glenn was tired and irritated. 

Because the real person to be blamed for Glenn’s predicament and ill temper was Captain Jeffery Charon. Gaspard’s sudden departure had only provided the knight captain the opportunity to ruin Glenn’s day and night. The knight captain knew why and how much he hated being on the second shift of night watch. This assignment was a punishment for doing something or other to piss off one of the senior knights again by proving how much better Glenn was compared to them despite being well over a decade younger. 

And Glenn couldn’t do shit about it.

With Commander Dominic in Fhirdiad and thus absent, the mantle of leadership temporarily went to the most senior knight present. So as the person with the highest rank and most seniority currently present, Captain Charon was the acting commander of the royal guard until the glorified Blaidydd family vacation disguised as a diplomatic mission ended and they returned to Fhirdiad. For now, Glenn had to obey. 

And it wasn’t like Glenn could complain about getting the extra shift either without looking like a spoiled child. Scheduling mistakes happened. Everyone got accidently assigned an extra one every now and then. Gaspard’s departure had been sudden and unexpected given the grave news he had received regarding Lord Lonato. There weren’t as many knights available to cover for him as usual given half of the royal guard had been left behind in Fhirdiad. And technically this was his first and only shift of the day, since change from first to second watch happened at midnight. 

_Knights don’t complain even when their commander is a prick._

Captain Charon didn’t like Glenn, but that wasn’t anything new. The young knight and his comrades were not exactly on the greatest of terms. In the eyes of many, Sir Glenn Athena Fraldarius was a child to be coddled or looked down on with contempt and condensation. 

The rest of the royal guard...the rest of the knights didn’t think of Glenn as an equal or knight in his own right. No matter his talent, his intelligence, and no matter all the blood, sweat, and tears Glenn poured into becoming a knight who could live up to the Shield of Faerghus—Sir Glenn Athena Fraldarius never earned his place among his fellow royal guardsmen. He was a child who was given the position because his father was the right hand of the king. 

That mattered a lot.

Two years had passed since he first became a knight and King Lambert accepted him into the royal guard a few days later. Glenn wished he had insisted on waiting a year instead of blindly jumping at the chance. At fifteen, he was prodigious and had been skilled enough (barely) to qualify for the guard. His Grace would never have entrusted Glenn with the protection of his family if he hadn’t been up to the task. 

The issue was Glenn hadn’t had to prove himself first. He was essentially given one of the highest ranking positions a knight could hold in the Kingdom less than two months after being knighted on the recommendation of his father: Duke Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius, Shield of Faerghus. Favoritism and nepotism was a thing that happened, but Glenn’s appointment had been such a blatant show of it that several of the knights had taken offense. 

And Glenn hated that in two years he still hasn’t been able to shake off the shadow hanging over him. He was seventeen now. He was not an inexperienced child with no real world experience. Sure, he hadn’t gone on any campaigns yet, but that didn’t give anyone the right to think him less than them. Glenn would knock them down to his level as many times as it took for them to finally see him.

And yeah, maybe it would help if Glenn stopped going out of his way to pick verbal and physical fights with the other knights to prove himself. He knew that acting like a belligerent and petulant child off duty was not helping to endear him to his comrades. And Father was growing tired of hearing about the brawls. Which was another big reason Glenn hadn’t found a way to play on Captain Charon’s pride to force the man into a duel.

_If I want the other knights to respect me and treat me like an equal then I have to act the part. Being a knight means more than just being capable on the battlefield. It means acting with honor, nobility, and dignity._

Father was not happy with him right now and Glenn was not particularly inclined to give the man anything else to be displeased about for the foreseeable future. Not that he regretted breaking Miklan’s nose. Fucker deserved it for pushing Felix down those stairs. The Gautier heir had meant to push Sylvain and missed. Glenn still would have punched Miklain for Sylvain, but he probably would have refrained from breaking his nose. He really hoped the dastard really did end up getting disowned. 

Though, Father had only reprimanded Glenn for punching another heir to one of the Kingdom’s great noble houses in the face—not for breaking his nose. Father hadn’t been pleased by Miklan’s actions either. Nor had Margrave Gautier. Felix hadn’t been hurt, but Miklan Anschutz Gautier had still pushed the second son of the second most powerful house in the entire kingdom of Faerghus down a flight of stairs. 

Then Felix had broken Miklan’s arm the next time he had visited the Gautier estate. Which, personally, Glenn didn’t see a problem with. He understood the social and political issues with acting like that, but his little brother was getting fearsome with a blade and Miklan was a spiteful weakling who couldn’t handle the hand the Goddess had dealt him. He was proud Felix was able to teach the elder Gautier a lesson about messing with him or Sylvain. 

Father had still said Glenn was setting a bad example for Felix. 

Can’t forget about that.

Because that had really stung.

_Goddess fucking forbid I be anything less than perfect—Erase._

_What time is it?_

From the position of the moon, Glenn guessed there was maybe a quarter of an hour left on his shift before the clock struck three and he was released from duty. In less than fifteen minutes he would finally be able to go to fucking bed and sleep for a full three hours before he had to get up for breakfast. Not a lot. When Glenn wasn’t suffering from sleep deprivation, he could get by on only three hours of sleep in a pinch if he had too. And he was most certainly suffering from sleep deprivation. 

Glenn Athena Fraldarius was the perfect knight.

The new moon was five days ago.The moon was only a dim sliver in the night sky as he patrolled the camp. Glenn Athena Fraldarius was the perfect picture of a knight of the royal guard as he went about fulfilling his duty. Alert, despite the late hour, he walked the predetermined route laid out by the Captain Charon diligently and without deviation. No breaks were taken and no shadow or odd noises were left uninvestigated. The young knight cut no corners in his assignment. 

Glenn Athena Fraldarius was the perfect knight.

_Today is going to be hellish._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I blame Kura for talking me into this.
> 
> Now let us see if I can follow through on my grandiose plan of writing this instead of leaving it an eternal plot bunny. Goodness knows I have enough of those. Maybe if I finish this I'll finally take a crack at that Code Vein-Star Wars: The Clone Wars crossover? Probably not, but I have an account so I could.


	2. The Tragedy of Duscar(2): A Knight's Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1: The Tragedy of Duscar

**Fodlan, Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, Duscar.**

**1176.**

* * *

Glenn awoke to the sound of screams and the smell of smoke. The young knight was moving before he even had time to question what was going on. All he knew in the instant was that there was danger and he needed to be ready to face it. He needed his sword, boots, and to get away from the danger of vulnerable canvas walls. Glenn rolled out of his cot and grabbed for his sword in the same motion, tumbling onto the much safer dirt floor of the tent. He allowed himself a few seconds to find his bearing as he fumbled in the dark under his cot for his boots. 

_ Stupid, I’m already wearing them. I only took the armor off before I crashed. Shit, under attack and not wearing armor. Not good. _

Briefly, he considered donning just the chest piece and gauntlets before quickly abandoning the idea. It would take him at least five minutes to put the three armor pieces on properly, maybe three minutes if he was sloppy. Any amount of armor took time to equip; time that Glenn didn’t know if he had. They were under attack. 

He could hear the screams. The sound of metal clanging against metal. He could smell the smoke and see the orange glow of fire illuminating the wall of his tent. The chaos had yet to reach Glenn. Instead the fire and fighting seemed focused on the east and center of the camp. 

_ Fuck. _

The young knight bolted out of his tent and raced towards the center of the camp with only a silver sword in his hand. Engaging anyone in direct combat was not an option without armor when lives were on the line. The enemy only needed to land one good hit to take Glenn down. He was trading protection and defense for time, speed, and maneuverability. Glenn was going to play to those advantages. 

Glenn darted and dashed through the corridors of burning and smoldering canvas tents. The smoke stung his eyes as he ran. His blade slashed at exposed enemy heads, necks, backs, and knees from behind. He didn’t care how dishonorable his tactics were. It was safer if the enemy never saw him coming. 

_ Where are King Lambert and Prince Dimitri? (And less importantly, Queen Consort Patricia?) _

The Blaiddyd had to be the target of this attack. Not a challenging or surprising deduction, but Glenn did not charge blindly ahead into danger on assumptions. The royal family was the only target present that was worth assaulting an entire camp filled with trained knights over. 

There were no other important political figures here because this entire diplomatic mission was more or less just a bloody pretense for the royal family to get some time away from the capital and the court. After all, there was no need for high ranking members of the kingdom’s court and nobility–like his father–to be there for what was supposed to be a glorified vacation. And an individual heir or crest bearer without a guard could be quietly kidnapped or assassinated.

_ It’s getting hotter. The fires are spreading.  _

He desperately scanned his burning surroundings for any sign of the royal family. Glenn needed to find them. He had charted out a few escape routes as he ran. He had to find the king and prince and get them to safety. Only the danger of alerting the enemy and inhaling a lungful of soot kept Glenn from yelling for them.

_ His Grace! _

A flash of pale yellow at the edge of his vision. Glenn whipped his head towards the splash of blonde hair. Relief flooded Glenn when he saw the Great Lion King alive and locked in combat with two enemy combatants. Prince Dimitri was trembling behind the king with a steel dagger clutched tightly in his hands. 

_ His Grace is fighting with his right hand. Why is he—No armor. That blood is his. Dominant arm is disabled. Combat abilities severely impaired. Relying on non dominant limb and unable to use a lance.  _

In an instant, Glenn darted forward and buried his blade in the back of one of the attackers. He took them by surprise. Neither of the king’s foes saw Glenn coming until one of them was already dead on his blade. The moment of shock and surprise created an opening that King Lambert used to finish off his other attacker.

“Fraldarius, I’m relieved to see you’re still alive,” King Lambert said, he lowered his sword and stepped towards Glenn. As the king moved, there was a barely noticeable sway to his movement. “I feared the worst.”

_ Balance is off too. From the dead weight or blood lost?  _

“Glenn,” Prince Dimitri gasped. Glenn didn’t know whether the water in the prince eyes was from smoke, fear, relief, or a combination of all three. The dagger tumbled to the ground as the prince surged forward past his father and wrapped his arms around Glenn in a terrified and desperate embrace. “When I saw Bridgette and Kenneth I thought—You’re okay. Not dead.”

_ Bridgette is Galatea. She’s Ingrid’s second cousin. _

“Yeah, glad you’re not dead either Your Highness. No time to celebrate it. Pick the knife back up,” Glenn said and roughly pried the prince off of him. He was being rude and improper, but survival trumped court doctrine at the moment. “We have to move, I need to get you to safety. I know a route we can take to safety. Your Grace, do you know if there are knights nearby that we can call upon?”

“I am afraid not. Sir Daron and Sir Charon held them off so that I might escape with Dimitri. They were supposed to catch up with us. There are so many bodies, I fear—” King Lambert cut off and shook his head gravely. The implication of his words still rang clear. Glenn had been careful not to look too closely at the bodies. Many wore Kingdom armor. At the sound of multiple approaching footsteps, Glenn tensed and his grip on his blade tightened. 

_ This isn’t good. Can’t risk direct engagement. The king is not fit for combat and Dimitri isn’t ready. Plan: Thunder. Hit them with Thunder the moment they round the corner. Then grab His Grace and His Highness and run. Any damage from the recoil won’t be disabling if I don’t use my dominant hand. _

The young knight opened his mouth to speak only for his king to raise a hand to silence him. King Lambert looked Glenn dead in the eyes and pushed Dimitri towards him. “You need to move now. Fraldarius, take Dimitri and get out of here. I shall find Patricia _. _ ”

_ He is not seriously implying what I think he is, is he? He can’t stay bloody behind. He’ll die. He’s already injured and all of our odds of survival decrease the longer we stay here. The fire is growing and the number of knights are dropping.  _

“Please tell me you're not telling me you plan to stay here? You’re injured, your arm is useless, and you’re in no shape to fight. And the world is on fucking fire. You’ll end up dead. Want me to list how? Killed in combat, death by blood loss, suffocation from smoke inhalation, or burned to death—”

“SILENCE,” King Lambert’s voice was deadly and accented with a sweep of his good arm. His left arm hung limply at his side, useless. Mentally, Glenn reevaluated his assessment of the severity of his king’s injury. Something important had been severed in that arm. “This is an order from your king, Fraldarius! Save Dimitri! Take my son and get out of here! Now!”

_ I’m not going to be able to convince him otherwise. Not in time at least. Fuck protocol! Can I knock him out and carry him? No. The dead weight will get all three of us killed.  _

“...Very well, Your Grace,” Glenn said through gritted teeth as he dipped his head in submission. Silently, he swore to come back for the king once the crown prince’s safety had been assured. He grabbed Prince Dimitri by the arm and took off running. Glenn dragged the prince behind him as he wove through the maze of danger, dead bodies, and fire. Over Dimitri’s screams for his father, Glenn missed the word King Lambert spoke as he watched them retreat.

_ “Stay safe and live, both of you.” _


	3. The Tragedy of Duscar(3): A Knight's Deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1: The Tragedy of Duscar

**Fodlan, Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, Duscar.**

**1176.**

* * *

_ We’re lucky it’s still summer. We’d have frozen to death by now otherwise. _

The morning sky was dyed with the pink and indigo of the receding dawn. With the sun rising in the east and bathing the land in its light, Glenn could see the entire valley from his rocky perch while remaining safely out of view hidden in the shadow cast by the cave and overhanging cliff. In the distance at the other end of the valley, an orange glow stood out in stark contrast to the rocky grey landscape of the Duscian mountains. 

Less than an hour had passed since Glenn found the cave they were sheltering in. His body was trembling now the adrenaline was out of his system. It was more than just the adrenaline. Glenn doubted that Prince Dimitri would be the only one walking away from Duscar traumatized. But Glenn was a knight and knights endure and push past their trauma in order to be strong enough to protect the Kingdom and its people.

_ I have to be strong for Prince Dimitri. I’m Sir Glenn Athena Fraldarius, Knight of the Royal Guard and son of the Shield of Faerghus. My king gave me a mission to complete. _

He could still hear Sir Leone's voice ringing in his ears as the Falcon Knight frantically yelled for someone to free her. The image of Sir Helga Leone struggling pinned under her slain pegasus surrounded by flames was burned into Glenn’s mind’s eye. He prayed to Sothis another knight came to Sir Leone’s aid. The old bat was one of the few knights Glenn was on semi decent terms with...she didn’t deserve to die like that.

_ Forget it. _

_ If the old bat’s dead, she’s dead. I can go back for survivors after the prince is safe. I can’t change the past. Only the present and future.  _

Glenn was not going to abandon his comrades. The knights were a team even if they didn’t always get along. Even Captain Charon, prick as he was, would have cut off his own arm before leaving any of his men behind—Glenn included. Their king had almost certainly fallen, but the young knight still refused to turn his back on his comrades. 

_ First Dimitri, then the knights. I need a plan. _

Waiting this out in the cave was not an option nor was it safe to leave it yet. The rocky Duscar landscape offered little in the way of cover. The thin forest grew only at the valley bottom. The rocky cliffs of the sides were only lightly spotted with shrubby and the rare runty pine. In the daylight, a competent lookout could see movement from the other side of the valley. 

_ Waiting risks discovery. _

_ Leaving means being seen...Unless only one person is seen leaving. _

_ Dimitri has outdoor survival training and Castle Kleiman is only four hours away by foot.  _

A plan began to form in Glenn’s mind. He smirked and hopped to his feet. He should not have done that. For a moment, the world seemed to sway around him. The young knight groaned and forced himself to remain on his feet.

_ I need a healer.  _

_ We need a healer. _

Externally, Glenn was in decent condition. He had several minor burns and countless small cuts and scrapes. His skin and clothing were blackened from the ash and soot covering him. The knight’s hair was an uneven mess hanging below his chin. Glenn had cut it in a moment of panic, a flash of orange and he’d feared it had caught fire. It would take years to grow out again. 

Internally...well just because Glenn escaped the inferno with minimal burns did not mean he came out of the blaze unscathed. His chest and lungs burned. It hurt to breathe the painfully warm air. He had breathed in soot, ash, and smoke. 

_ Smoke inhalation. _

Knocking the prince unconscious as they fled had been cruel, but Glenn hadn’t had much of a choice in the matter at the time. The knight could deal with Dimitri begging not to leave King Lambert behind, but Dimitri had stopped pleading and started struggling. And Glenn had not been willing to risk the Crest of Blaiddyd activating.

Prince Dimitri was still unconscious and was physically in similar condition to Glenn. Maybe a bit worse given the blow to the head. Thank Sothis, that hadn’t been a direct hit. He probably had a concussion, but he wasn’t dead. 

_ I can heal him _ . 

_ Heal _ was a spell drilled into every member of the guard for situations like this. Glenn could mend the prince’s flesh wounds and at least patch up his internal ones until someone more qualified had the chance. Another moment of rest, Glenn took a deep breath and tried to speak the words. He winced and began to cough. 

“H- _ Heal _ ,” Glenn gasped, forcing the healing incantation from his lips for a second time. The effort had the young knight descending into another fit of coughing. His mouth was drier than sandpaper and his throat and lungs burned with every breath he took. Still, the young knight ignored the pain wracking his body and tried to focus on the prince. Glenn closed his eyes and cleared his mind of anything other than his heartfelt wish for  _ all to be well. _

His fingertips ignited with a weak flickering warm glow.

_ Success. _

The coughing abated as Glenn’s fingers weaved the thin trails of gold into an array. Magic humming soothingly as he traced the pattern into the air to completion. With a weak grin, Glenn sent the spell at the unconscious Dimitri with a flick of his fingers. 

Healing magic washed over the prince in a gentle soothing wave of gold. Flesh wounds knitted themselves closed and burns faded into unblemished skin under Glenn’s watchful eye. Soon the only visible evidence of what Dimitri had undergone was the ash and dried blood covering him and his tattered clothing. 

_ I’ve taken care of all the external injuries and patched the internal ones. A proper healer will still need to double check the head and lungs, but Dimitri should be fine once his concussion clears up. _

After a quick closer inspection confirmed the prince’s stable condition, Glenn relaxed and let out a long sigh of relief. He instantly regretted it. The sudden and deep exhale of air stung and reminded him of the burning in his throat and chest. 

_ Be nice if healing magic worked on its caster.  _

“Wake up Your Highness,” Glenn winced as he forced himself to speak through the discomfort. He shook him gently at first, but he became more insistent when that failed to rouse the prince. “Get up, Prince Dimitri.”

Slowly, Dimitri began to stir and his hazy eyes sluggishly flickering open. He rubbed his unfocused eyes blearily with sooty hands as he sat up and looked at Glenn unfocused. “Glenn? Where’s Father and Mother?”

_ Definitely still concussed. _

_...He looks like a panda.  _

The young knight crouched down to look Prince Dimitri in the eyes. He tried to make his voice and expression soothing. “Do you remember what happened, Your Highness? The attack?”

_ He’ll be less recognizable with black hair. I’ll stain it before I leave. _

“...the attack,” Dimitri repeated, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as the boy tried to piece together what had happened only a handful of hours prior. Then everything rushed back and his suddenly widened in horror. The prince jumped to his feet only to stumble and fall back down to the ground. “Father! Mother! Glenn, we have to go back! We have to go back, Glenn!”

“Your Highness…”

“Please Glenn, we can’t leave them there! Please!” There were tears in the prince’s eyes as the thirteen year old pleaded with Glenn for them to go back and save his family. 

“Prince Dimi—”

“Father and Mother need us to save them! Isn’t that what knights do, Glenn? We have to go back and save them! Pleas—”

“Prince Dimitri,” Glenn’s voice was a deadly serious sharp whisper. “I will knock you out again if you don’t shut up, drop it, and listen to me right now.”

The prince flinched and fell silent, tears still welling in his eyes.

_Good,_ _I don’t want to have to do that again. And it might make the concussion worse._

“King Lambert ordered we split up so I could get you to safety while he rescued your step mother,” It hurt to speak, but Glenn pushed on. He prepared himself to lie and manipulate a traumatized child. “He’s probably already on his way to Castle Kleiman right now with her.”

“...I’ve never heard of Castle Kleiman?” Dimitri half asked and half said. His voice was hesitant and hopeful. Glenn could tell the prince wanted to believe him. Still, even concussed as he was, Dimitri was thirteen years old and not a naive child.

...Prince Dimitri looked up to Glenn though. The boy knew Glenn was honest and blunt to the point of being borderline rude at times. He was not a knight who sugar coated the truth.

Dimitri  _ trusted _ Glenn to tell the truth. 

So Glenn simply shrugged. “Not surprised. Castle Kleiman is the sole holding of House Kleiman. They’re a pretty minor house. Anyway, the castle is the designated rendezvous point for this leg of the journey. Royal guard stuff, only the king and the knights are supposed to know about it. That’s why your father wanted us to leave together, so I could tell you where to go.”

_ Tell, not accompany. _

Dimitri’s desperation turned to determination. The prince believed him or wanted to believe him to the point of willingly deluding himself into it. Before Dimitri had the chance to speak, Glenn continued. The less room he gave the prince to talk the more control Glenn had over the conversation.

_ Please buy this and say yes so I can stop talking.  _

“You’ll have to journey there alone, Your Highness. As a knight of the Royal Guard I have a sworn duty to make sure the enemy can not find you before you reunite with your father. You can travel to Castle Kleiman without me. The journey isn’t hard and you’re brave right?”

“Y-yeah. But—”

“I knew I could count on you,  _ Dimitri _ . Your father will be so proud.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once Part 1 is finished the second half of this chapter is sooo getting rewritten.


End file.
